Kataang Week
by SilverSanctuary
Summary: My submissions for Kataang Week 2015 with an emphasis on support.
1. Sleep Talking

Hello! I realized that I hadn't posted any of my entries for Kataang Week 2015 on here; I had only put them on Tumblr. So now they're up here too. I only finished 5 out of 7 of the prompts because real life took over, and I just haven't had time. I may finish the last two prompts if I can find time and inspiration strikes.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy the prompts I did complete. Each chapter functions as a one-shot, exploring the relationship between Aang and Katara with an overarching theme of support. Please rate and review if you get a chance!

* * *

Aang talked in his sleep. Katara glanced from her book to look at the lanky man spread out in the bed beside her.

"Sweetie?" she ventured.

He snorted and murmured something unintelligible. Katara leaned over to place a kiss on his blue tattoo. The mighty Avatar, she thought, smiling to herself. More like her goofball husband who muttered nonsense sentences while dreaming and woke up with a spring in his step to go to morning meditation.

She tried to remember if she'd always known he talked in his sleep, or if it was something she noticed only after their marriage. When Team Avatar traveled together and camped underneath the stars, they all slept separately, and Katara usually slept next to her brother. With Sokka, Appa, and Momo all to contend with, it was a miracle Katara ever got any sleep. Their snores must have drowned out any soft whispers from Aang. She only remembered hearing him yell when the nightmares became too much.

Katara grimaced. She could still remember how he looked at her those days before the invasion, when he tried to go without sleep and practiced relentlessly—so desperate, so scared, so overwhelmed. Just a boy carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. She looked at her husband sleeping soundly next to her. Asleep, he looked a lot like the boy he had been.

Thank the spirits the days of nightmares were behind them.

Although he looked younger when he slept, Aang had clearly grown. His face was now a little less round and his ears a little less big. The most striking difference was the dark stubble shadowing his jaw. Katara rubbed her chin; it scratched a little when he kissed her, but she liked the change. Katara had a sneaking suspicion the idea to grow a beard had come from her brother, but she had always liked Aang's hair, so she didn't mind.

She yawned, set her book down on the bedside table, and stretched her legs beneath the blankets. One of her feet poked out because that particular blanket was wrapped tightly around Aang's legs. Katara wiggled her toes, chuckled to herself, and reached over to stroke the smooth skin of his scalp.

He blinked sleepily up at her. Then his face broke into a goofy smile so full of love and adoration that her heart stuttered.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hey," she whispered back. "Think I could have some of the blankets?"

His eyes widened as he tried to untangle himself and toss the blankets over to her side of the bed. She laughed as his arm got caught in a fold, and he jerked helplessly against the fabric.

With a few tugs from her side, Katara helped him free his arm. Most of the blankets were now piled on top of her, and Aang propped himself up to arrange them better around her. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

"I'm good now. I just wanted my feet covered," she said with a smile.

He ducked his head bashfully and pulled one of the blankets back to his side. "Sorry about that. Are you ready to sleep now?"

Katara nodded, and he waved his hand, extinguishing the candles with a single bending move. Darkness enveloped their bedroom. She snuggled closer to him, and he tucked his arm securely around her waist.

"Were you dreaming earlier?" she asked. "You were talking in your sleep."

"I don't think so." The sound coasted over the shell of her ear, and she shivered. "What did I say?"

Katara interlaced her fingers with his. "I couldn't tell. Most of the time it's too mumbled to understand."

She felt the vibrations of his laughter travel through her back. "I'll have to work on my enunciation then."

Maybe she responded; maybe she didn't. With his warmth all around her, and the darkness and quiet of the night pressing in, Katara closed her eyes, and she drifted off to sleep in her husband's arms.

In the middle of the night, she felt him jolt. They had rolled apart while they slept, but she felt when every muscle in his body tensed.

"Aang?" she whispered.

Deep breathing answered her question. The part of him that touched her back arched away from her. Katara leaned up on her elbow and reached for him in the dark. She accidentally crashed into his face, and her fingers touched damp streaks on his skin.

"Aang, turn on the lights!"

She heard him sniff, and then the candles burst to life. He curled his face back into the pillow and wrapped his arms around his head. Katara draped herself over his back and hugged his shoulders. "Sweetie, it was just a dream," she said soothingly, trailing her lips over his tattoo. He cringed underneath her before rolling over and hugging her tightly. The tears on his cheeks smeared across her own.

Maybe the days of nightmares weren't behind them after all.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay."

Aang took a deep breath, scrubbed away the tears, and pushed away enough to look at her properly. He looked lost and tired and so young.

She gave him a small smile and kissed his cheek. "Want to talk about it?"

He took a few moments to find the right words and organize the dream-thoughts, and Katara waited patiently. "I dreamed about the past," he murmured. The candlelight flickered across his face, giving his pale skin an orange glow.

"I was at the Air Temples when they were attacked. Everything burned. Everyone was—" His voice dropped to a whisper, and he shook his head. "So much pain. And I—the Avatar State took over me, and I—"

Aang closed his eyes.

Once, several years ago, Aang laid her out on the grass one morning after his meditation and taught her about chakras to help her with bending and healing. One by one, his hands floating over her, he told her about the pools of energy that flowed through her—what they represented and which emotions blocked each one. Now, she placed her hand over Aang's heart where the air chakra resided, the one that dealt with love and was blocked by grief.

She kissed his forehead sweetly, trying to convey the stab of pain within her own heart in the wake of his distress. Aang's air chakra would probably always be turbulent, but she vowed to hold him tightly throughout the storm. Especially on dark nights like this one, when nightmares plagued them, and their sleep was punctuated by supportive, bittersweet murmurs in the quiet.

"It's going to be okay," she breathed against his arrow.

Aang buried his hands in her hair and ran his fingers through it. "I'm worried about the future."

"How so?"

"I'm the last, Katara. And when I'm gone—when the next Avatar has to learn airbending, there won't be anyone to learn from. And soon after that, after three cycles, the Avatar won't even exist anymore. There won't be an Air Nation for the Avatar to be born into. Everything . . . everything will be gone forever."

His breath caressed her throat, and she pulled him closer, squeezing as hard as she could. Her mouth dried; what could she say in the face of such truth? Although the Air Acolytes adopted the lifestyle wholeheartedly, they could not truly replace the culture Aang lost. The future he painted struck her painfully—she had _always_ believed in the Avatar, even when the rest of the world stopped believing during Hundred Year War. She could not imagine a world where that great power suddenly winked out or a world where another little girl couldn't look up at the stars with hope in her heart that the Avatar would make the world a better place.

She wouldn't let that future come to pass.

"It won't turn out like that," she declared.

Aang tilted his head to look at her properly, his gray eyes questioning. She smirked at him. "We'll just have lots of airbender kids."

He couldn't help but chuckle, but the shadows didn't quite leave his face. "It probably won't be that simple. You're a waterbender, but no one else in your family can bend. And it can work the other way too. We've seen so many different families in our travels—all a mix of benders and nonbenders. It's hard to predict that kind of thing. We might not have any airbenders at all."

Stubborn, Katara refused to cede the point. She knew how ridiculous that solution sounded in the wake of the seriousness of his concerns, but it was the only solution she had. "Aunt Wu said I'd have great-grandchildren," she declared. "Surely some of those descendants will be airbenders."

This time Aang did laugh. "Oh, Aunt Wu. Maybe she will be right. She was right about you marrying a powerful bender, after all." His strong arms tightened around her.

Katara pushed back with a mock-shocked expression on her face. "You _did_ listen! You always denied it, but I _knew_ I heard someone outside the door. And you acted really weird afterwards."

Aang dropped his forehead against hers. "Don't remind me. I was an idiot back then."

She laughed. "You were. But I love you anyway."

"I love you too." He took a deep breath. "Thank you, Katara. For always listening. "

"Of course, sweetie." She kissed him. She was aware they hadn't actually solved anything. Sometimes the problems of the past and the future were too large for them to solve on their own, but these nighttime conversations helped them feel better. They held each other close. They had each other, and that was the most important thing.

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Thanks for reading! Please review if you have a moment. I appreciate feedback!


	2. Change

This chapter's prompt is Change. For many of these, I focused on Aang and Katara's relationship as adults, but I took this opportunity to explore how their relationship developed in those early teenage years. I actually had the section with Sokka planned for over a year, and I'm glad I got to finish it and incorporate it into a larger story arc. This one references several events in the comics, so if you are unfamiliar with those events, I apologize. However, the overall theme of the story should still be accessible. Thanks for taking the time to read and review!

* * *

Most of the time, Aang didn't mind being the Avatar. There was a lot of responsibility—sometimes _a lot_ of responsibility—but he knew how to balance the role better than he did when he first learned his identity. Aang loved helping people with his bending, and he couldn't imagine his life without the friends he had now.

Most of the time, Aang liked being the Avatar—except for times like this, when he stood in front of a conference room full of every important statesman and scholar, looking to him for his opinion and Avatar wisdom, and his voice cracked.

At times like this, he wanted to earthbend himself a tunnel, burrow to the center of the earth, and never come out.

The first time it happened, he was talking to Appa and airbending hay into his stable in Ba Sing Se. He chattered to the sky bison and Momo about Iroh's tea shop, about the burgeoning Harmony Restoration Movement, and about his brand new relationship with Katara. Suddenly, he heard the pitch of his voice shoot up, and he stopped airbending abruptly, causing the pile of hay to rain down on Appa's head. The sky bison growled and shook himself. Aang placed his hand to his throat. He swallowed before laughing nervously and starting to chatter again.

It occurred periodically after that, and Aang hated that he couldn't predict it. Without warning, his voice betrayed him and made him sound even younger than he was. A couple times it happened while talking with Katara, and Aang felt his face heat up, just like when he used to try to awkwardly compliment her and the butterflies in his stomach prevented him from speaking properly. Not that the butterflies had really gone away, now that they were actually together.

Whenever his voice broke around her, she just chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. "You're changing, Aang," she said, and the reassurance in her voice always calmed him.

But now, with the eyes of Zuko, Earth King Kuei, White Lotus members, the Council of Five, and political scholars all trained on him, Aang wished more than anything that his voice wasn't changing.

"Aang," Katara whispered. "Keep going."

He shook himself out of his embarrassment, reached his arm behind his head, and smiled sheepishly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zuko nod encouragingly. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and spoke again.

When the conference ended, they all filed out of the room into the hall. King Kuei regaled Sokka and Zuko with tales of his adventures with Bosco around the world. A little behind them, Aang and Katara walked side by side.

"Hey," he started. "Thanks for prompting me back there."

Katara smiled at him. "Of course. I know your voice is an inconvenience right now, but it's really nothing to be embarrassed about. All guys go through it, and it will end soon enough."

He grabbed her hand, grateful, and squeezed. She looked at him, startled.

Aang paused. "Oh . . . um, is this okay? We don't have to—" He let go of her hand and started to pull his arm back to his side.

Katara reached out and slipped her hand back into his. A blush tinged her cheeks. "No, it's okay. I was just surprised for a moment. This is still really new."

She wanted to hold hands! Confidence swelled inside of him. "Yeah, but it's a good kind of new, right?"

Katara nodded and smiled shyly at him. "Yeah, it is."

"Hey!" Sokka called from up ahead. They instantly dropped hands; they still didn't quite know how to act around each other, much less the others, and certainly not her brother. It was bad enough that he'd caught them kissing on the balcony. "Hurry up!" he called. "Iroh has food waiting for us at the Jasmine Dragon!"

"We're coming!" Katara yelled back. She jogged to catch up, pulling Aang along with her, and this time, she didn't let go of his hand afterwards.

* * *

"Oh, good morning, Katara."

"Good morning, Aang."

They grinned as they greeted each other. He stretched from his seated position in the middle of the large front room in the house in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. He just finished his morning meditation when he heard her soft footsteps on the wooden floor. He watched her lithe form as she entered the kitchen.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked.

The sudden growling of his stomach answered her question. They both chuckled, and he rose to join her in the kitchen. As he drew near, she turned around and draped her arms over his shoulders. They kissed, and when they pulled apart, the soft expression on her face made his day.

They treasured these morning moments together. It was a few months into the Harmony Restoration Movement planning, Suki had returned to Kyoshi Island, and Toph went to establish her metalbending school. When they didn't have meetings at the Earth King's palace, Sokka slept in as long as possible, living up to Toph's nickname of Snoozles, which meant Aang and Katara had breakfast alone.

He scooped the rice into two separate bowls while she dished out jook. She added some grilled meat to her bowl and vegetables to his. He took his breakfast to the low table and added some sweet buns as dessert.

"Did you sleep all right?" he asked

"Mostly," she answered. "Thanks for staying up with me."

It had been a full moon last night, and they'd stayed up later than usual waterbending. The moonlight had glistened on her dark hair and lit up her eyes in a way that dazzled him.

He opened his mouth to tell her how beautiful and powerful she was, how her mastery of her element filled him with awe, and how she moved with such fluid grace, but he was interrupted by a shout from down the hall.

"Katara!" Sokka yelled. "I thought you fixed these pants!"

She swallowed a bite of rice. "I did!"

"Nooo, you didn't!"

Her brother emerged from the hall, wearing a pair of blue pants that were noticeably too short around the ankles. He spread his arms out in a dramatic pose. "See?!"

"Sokka!" Katara exclaimed, exasperated. She rose from the table and knelt before him, fingering the cloth. She stood up and headed for her room. "Let me get my sewing kit and see what I can do."

Once she disappeared down the hall, Aang airbended himself over to Sokka, landing so suddenly that the warrior jerked back a little. "Wow, Sokka," Aang exclaimed, looking him up and down. "You're shooting up like a tree!"

"I keep telling you, man, you gotta eat lots of meat!" Sokka crowed. Katara came back into the front room with a small pouch of sewing supplies and started measuring the distance from the pant leg to her brother's ankle.

Aang glanced back at the table with his vegetarian breakfast waiting for him. He tried to remember if any of the monks had been very tall, but the only one he could remember clearly was Gyatso, and Aang already came up to his teacher's chin when he was twelve. He laughed hollowly. "I guess I'll always be short then."

He could feel Katara's eyes on him, but then Sokka howled in pain. "Hey!" he yelled. "You poked me!"

"Oops, my hand slipped," his sister replied, not sounding sorry at all. Katara sat back on her heels and considered the fabric, completely ignoring the faces he made at her. "I'll have to let out the hem again. We'll see where that gets us." She looked inside the pouch and then turned to her boyfriend. "Aang, could you get me a spool of blue thread? The one in here isn't the right shade. It should be in the top drawer of my nightstand."

"I'm on it!" Aang rushed off down the hall. He could still hear the siblings as he headed for Katara's room.

"What was that about?" Sokka demanded. "Why'd you poke me with a sewing needle?"

Aang paused with his hand on her door to listen to the response. Katara's voice was accusatory. "Would you knock it off, Sokka? Aang already feels bad about his voice changing, and you're just making fun of his height."

"Come on, Katara, he's fine. He knows I'm joking."

"Can't you go and give him some, I don't know, _man-to-man_ advice?"

Aang sighed and opened her door, looking for the spool of thread. Katara's room was neat, the bed made and her clothes folded. Last night, when she finally felt like she could go to sleep, he had kissed her here while she sat on the bedside. She had smiled at him with hooded eyes, and Aang's heart pounded in his chest.

He pulled open the nightstand drawer. There were several spools of thread, a couple sewing needles, and her hand moisturizer. He found a dark blue spool and pulled it out. He started to close the drawer again, but the spools jostled, and he spied something else in the drawer. Curious, he picked it up.

He held a short expanse of woven twine and fishing line with a pink flower in the center. It was the necklace he made for Katara. She'd kept it?

There was a knock on the door. "Hey, Aang?"

Aang threw the necklace back into the drawer and slammed it shut. "Uh, yeah, Sokka?"

His girlfriend's brother entered the room. He wore a different pair of pants now, ones that actually came down to his ankles. Sokka gestured to the bed, and they both sat.

"Look," Sokka began. "I know it's tough right now. With your voice changing and starting to grow and . . . other things changing. But trust me, it will pass, and it will get better. And I didn't mean anything about the meat comment. I'm sure you'll be really tall, meat or no meat."

"It would be nice to not have to tip my chin up to kiss Katara," Aang mused.

Sokka slapped his face. " _Aang_ ," he groaned. " _Oogies_ , man."

"Sorry." Aang ducked his head in apology. "You know, I've never asked . . . are you okay with me and Katara? Besides the oogies, I mean?"

Sokka looked at him sidelong, and Aang waited with bated breath. He treasured Sokka's friendship, and he wanted the warrior to approve of his relationship with Katara.

"You guys are good together, I'll admit it." Sokka's voice softened. "I knew you cared about each other, so it wasn't really a surprise when you got together. But still, she's my sister, Aang. I don't ever want to see her get hurt. She's been through enough."

Aang opened his mouth to respond, but Sokka held up his hand. "I know you wouldn't ever do anything deliberately. But you two are young. Just be careful with each other, okay?"

"Always," Aang promised solemnly.

"And try to keep the oogies to a minimum while I'm around, will you? I just can't handle it." Sokka shivered a little.

Aang chuckled. "Sure thing, Sokka."

When they returned to the front room to finish breakfast, Katara stood waiting patiently. She grinned at them and enveloped them both in a hug.

* * *

Aang emerged from the courtyard, sweaty and exhausted. He spent the whole afternoon moving through an intense earthbending regimen Toph had developed for him, and he was worn out. He flopped onto the cushions and waved his hand to circulate some air around himself.

"Good workout?" Katara ventured, looking up from the scrolls she was reading about the Harmony Restoration Movement. They were almost ready to start relocating the first Fire Nation colony, and she felt overwhelmed by the level of detail involved in the planning.

"Yeah." His voice was muffled by cushions.

He heard her giggle. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he grinned at her. "You know, a healing session would certainly be nice. My muscles are definitely going to be sore tomorrow."

Grateful for a distraction from the scrolls, Katara eagerly rose and went over to him. He sat up straight and tall as she bent some water from the faucet.

He closed his eyes as the warmth of the water glided over his skin. First his scalp, then his neck and shoulders, finally moving down the line of his tattoo to the tight muscles of his back. He sensed her pause at the scar, and she paid extra attention to the tattered flesh there. He could feel her presence all around him, and the lavender shampoo she used floated to his nose.

The warmth moved down his arms. He opened his eyes and found her sitting in front of him, guiding the water over his forearms and hands, her blue eyes focused on the task at hand.

She was so beautiful.

Aang clasped her hands and kissed her abruptly. She gasped, lost her concentration, and the water splashed onto his crossed legs. Their laughter vibrated across their lips, and he felt her smiling against him.

Katara smirked at him when they moved apart, and then pecked his cheeks. She returned the water to the sink. "I take it you're feeling better?" she asked coyly.

"You always make me feel better," he returned honestly.

Despite her dark complexion, he detected the blush rising to her cheeks. What a change, he marveled. Before, she always made him blush, and now he could make her blush, hold her hand, and kiss her whenever he wanted to.

Aang glided his hand over her cheek and guided her face back to his. He felt her tip her chin up to kiss him properly.

He opened his eyes and pulled back. Katara looked confused. "Aang?"

"Stand up. I want to see something." He gathered her hands in his and pulled them both to their feet. He made sure they both stood evenly on the wooden floor. He asked her to take off her shoes, and she complied.

They stood face to face, and he was looking directly at her dark eyebrows.

"I'm taller," he breathed.

Katara laughed. The sound strummed through him. She coasted her hand from the top of her head to his forehead. "You are," she declared with a smile. "I told you you were growing, sweetie."

Aang blinked at her. Sweetie?

She ducked her head. "Is that okay? I was thinking of nicknames, but if you don't like it—"

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to hers. "No, it's great. I love it, sweetie."

She beamed at him, and Aang held her tightly, gratitude welling up in him.

What an amazing change.

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Hooray for sweet fluffy moments! Thanks for reading. If you have a moment, please review and let me know your feedback!


	3. The Avatar State

The prompt for this oneshot is the Avatar State, and I once again returned to Aang and Katara's relationship as adults. Thanks for taking the time to read and review!

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 _The attacks described in the attached documents are consistent with bloodbending; however, the events occurred on nights other than that of the full moon. Because of this, further investigation is needed. If it is determined that bloodbending is implicated in these attacks, then regular police personnel may be unprepared to meet such a challenge, and special steps will be taken to ensure personnel safety. The Avatar State may be required._

Aang set the stack of papers down and rubbed his eyes. Toph had brought him the documents earlier that day, a compilation of her detectives' work trying to pin down Yakone. It was a pile of witness reports, victim testimony, and police bureaucracy. He stretched his arms above his head and glanced at the last line of the summary document again.

 _The Avatar State may be required_.

When was the last time he used the Avatar State? He couldn't quite remember. Maybe when the earthquake shook Republic City, and he helped clear the rubble from the hardest hit areas. Or maybe to help with the drought in the Earth Kingdom. Some natural disaster, probably, he decided. He hadn't used it against a person in decades.

Although he might have to use it to defend himself against his wife tonight, he thought.

A knock sounded on his office door. "Come in," he called.

His brother-in-law stuck his head inside the office. "I'm heading out. Want to get some dinner before you have to catch the ferry?"

Aang gestured at the mountain of paperwork on the desk. "I've got to stay here and get through this mess."

Sokka frowned. "Katara won't like that."

"Trust me, I know," Aang sighed. "I got an earful this morning."

After three children and almost two decades of marriage, Aang accepted the inevitability of occasional arguments. But he still hated to see Katara looking at him with anger, to have her fury fall on him like hail.

"You've been gone too much, Aang!" she'd shouted that morning.

He tried to argue—unsuccessfully, of course—that now that he was back from his trip to the Southern Air Temple with Tenzin, he desperately needed to catch up on work. They were trying to catch Yakone. They were trying to keep people from suffering from the very type of bending she fought to make illegal. They were going to help people.

" _I_ need help!" she rejoined. "And Kya. And Bumi. Do you know that your son's thinking about joining the United Forces? Or that Kya's going to start volunteering at the clinic? Plus, the house is a mess, and the Acolytes keep asking me questions I don't have the answers to, and I need _help_ , Aang."

Her blue eyes pierced him, and he tried to hug her, but she pulled away. Then he had to leave, or he would have missed the ferry.

Aang picked up the stack of papers again. "Thanks for the invitation, Sokka, but I have to pass."

His brother-in-law nodded, then jerked his chin at the telephone sitting on the Avatar's desk. "Call Katara. I'll see you tomorrow, Aang." The door clicked closed behind him.

Aang looked from the phone to the papers. The candle on the desk burned low, and he waved his hand, coaxing it back to life again. The light flickered over the words as he paged through descriptions of horrific instances—people writhing in pain and bodies twisting in the air. The more he read, the deeper Aang frowned.

Perhaps the Avatar State would be needed after all.

He took a deep breath and reached for the telephone.

Once, it was an either-or choice: Katara or the Avatar State. The one time he didn't choose Katara, it cost him his life. His back still ached sometimes from the lightning wound, and feathery scars marked the skin around the blast.

"The only way is to let her go," Guru Pathik had insisted.

Aang shook his head as he spun the phone dial. No, the only reason he had control over the Avatar State now—the only reason he didn't have to choose anymore—was because of Katara.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

Finally, her voice flew across the cables to his ears. "Hello?"

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi." She paused. "I'm sorry I yelled this morning. It was out of line."

He rested his chin in his palm and sighed. "I'm sorry too. I'll try to be home more often to help out with the kids and the house. We'll work it out somehow."

He could hear the relief in her voice. "Thanks, sweetie."

Calm descended upon him, the calm that came from talking with Katara, from mending the fences, the strength that even her voice kindled inside of him. It was the calm that enabled him to control the Avatar State without fear and to strive for balance in his life and the world. Because in the end, it didn't matter if they argued. He would always choose her, no matter what.

"I'll be here a little while longer tonight," Aang told her," but I should be home within the next hour."

"I'll have dinner waiting for you."

He grinned. "Sounds great. Love you, Katara."

"Love you too, Aang."

He hung up the phone, smiling to himself and looking forward to coming home to his beautiful family, especially his wonderful wife.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I wanted to explore how they would deal with arguing but still in a supportive and loving way. Let me know what you think by taking a moment to review!


	4. Home

The prompt was Home, and I'm just going to leave this one here.

* * *

"I thought you said he'd be home by now?"

"His meeting must have run long," Sokka rationalized.

Katara tapped her hand on the table. She fidgeted. She played with her hair. She got up and walked to the kitchen, checking the cooling fruit pies for the hundredth time. Her brother groaned.

"He'll be here, Katara. Sit _down_. You're making me nervous."

She ignored him, grabbed a towel, and starting cleaning her brother's kitchen. Again. She cleaned the entire apartment the day after she and Aang arrived. She wanted to pay Sokka back for letting them live with him while the construction of Air Temple Island finished up. She had scrubbed the counters, dusted the baseboards, and decorated the house with flowers from the vendor down the road. She tried to turn it into a home, even if her stay there would be temporary.

The key turned in the latch. Katara gasped, grabbed one of the fruit pies, and rushed back to the front room. The siblings stood facing the door as it opened.

"Surprise!"

The Avatar stood dumbstruck for a moment. His newlywed wife held a pie in her hands, and his brother-in-law clapped him heartily on the back.

"Happy birthday, man!" he crowed.

Aang blinked out of his surprise and laughed with them. He kissed Katara, and she offered the pie to him. "I used the Air Nomad recipe you told me about," she said quietly. "I hope they're as good as you remember."

He hugged her tightly with one arm, careful not to jostle the pastry out of her hands. "I'm sure it will be delicious. Thank you!"

* * *

When Katara announces her plan to her children in the morning, they instantly try to talk her out of it. Worry wells up on all three faces as they sit around the breakfast table in Sokka's home in Republic City proper. Kya's blue eyes cut through her, and Bumi quickly offers to go in her stead. Katara just shakes her head.

"I know where everything is," she insists. "It would be too difficult to explain to anyone else."

"Mom," Tenzin ventures. "Are you sure about this?"

She can't look at him directly. "Uncle Sokka's coming with me. I won't be alone."

Her children exchange concerned looks that they think she doesn't notice. Katara kneels at the empty spot at the table and pours herself some tea. She prepares a plate for her brother, to thank him for letting them stay with him for the week.

Outside, the city bells woefully dole out the hour. They are still pitched lower than usual. The family eats quietly. Her children know better than to argue with her, but there are few other topics of conversation that feel appropriate so they remain silent.

After awhile, Sokka enters the front room. He eats quickly and stands up when he finishes. "Ready?" he asks her.

Katara rises from the floor. Her joints ache with the movement. She grits her teeth and pushes on.

"Ready," she replies.

* * *

The splash of water crashed in her ears. She opened her eyes, but the red headband tied gently around her head prevented her from seeing anything besides light pushing through the fabric. Aang had his arms wrapped securely around her to steady her.

"Is this really necessary?" Katara questioned, tugging at the borders of the blindfold. "I know where we're going."

"I still want it to be a surprise," Aang said. "You haven't seen the best part yet." Excitement permeated his voice as much as the salt of the sea permeated the air. She smiled, rested her head on his shoulder, and chuckled to herself.

Without her sight, Katara reached out with her bending more than ever. The waves of Yue Bay roiled underneath the ferry, gliding gracefully around the smooth contours of the boat. The wind coaxed the currents, and seagulls squawked as they swooped through the sea breeze. She could sense the droplets tossed high into the air and the secret eddies far below. She breathed deep, elated.

She felt the ferry slow down, adjust its position, and stop. The sailors shouted at each other as they tethered the vessel to the dock. Aang supported her shifting weight, then transported them both to land with a flurry of airbending. Katara laughed as her hair fluttered all around her face.

His warm hands tugged her up the path, and he helped her up each and every step. Finally, after a long hike, he stopped and untied the headband. She could feel his hands shaking.

The fabric fell away from Katara's eyes, and she gasped.

She had seen the plans and even the beginning of the construction, but she never imagined the beauty that stood before her now. To the left, blue roofed buildings with yellow trims sprouted from the ground, and to the right, a large courtyard with a sunken area for training greeted her. But straight ahead, the true centerpiece of the island, rose a huge tower, floor after floor of cream stone topped with blue roofs, the entire structure crowned by a shining golden point.

Katara turned to Aang and clasped his hands. For awhile, all she could do was grin.

"Aang, it's . . . it's _beautiful_."

"You like it?" he murmured. He looked out over the completed Air Temple Island. When he faced her again, his gray eyes shone.

"I love it." She hugged him as tight as she could. "I can't wait to make a home here with you."

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Sokka asks softly. The wind almost eats his words, but Katara catches them before they fly away. The ferry cuts across the water, bringing them closer and closer to Air Temple Island. The breath knots in her chest. The waves toss the boat, and Katara bumps against her brother as the ferry jerks.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he continues. "We can get the Air Acolytes—"

"No," Katara interrupts. She grips his arm tightly. "I need to do this."

He nods and falls silent. She glances up at his stern face—wrinkled now, like her own, the dark hair streaked with gray, like her own, but he still wears it proudly in a warrior's wolf tail. Katara finds herself shaken by the changes. Hadn't they just been fishing together, in a boat not so different from this ferry, arguing about gender roles and the nature of waterbending?

She reaches up and clasps her mother's necklace as they approach the dock. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

The Water Tribe siblings trudge up the path to Air Temple Island proper, the steps worn with use. As they approach, they hear chanting and smell incense floating through the air. No one greets them when they arrive. Katara automatically looks to the dormitories, where the Air Acolytes were usually busy with daily chores: laundry, sweeping, tending the air bison. The courtyards are empty, and she turns her gaze to the temple, where the Air Acolytes continue the vigil they had maintained for over a week.

She grips Sokka's arm again and turns him towards the dormitories. Soon enough—too soon, Katara thinks—they stand staring at the wooden door of her home on Air Temple Island. She sucks in a deep breath and puts her key in the lock.

* * *

Aang grinned at her over his shoulder as he fit the key into the lock. He turned it; she heard the mechanism click, and then he pushed the wooden door open.

Katara tried to peer inside, but suddenly his strong arms swept her up against his chest, and she clasped her arms around his neck and laughed. He carried her over the threshold, and they giggled as if they were teenagers again.

"Welcome home, Katara," he whispered in her ear.

He set her down just inside, and she kissed him happily before turning to take in the place that would be their new home. The empty space gaped in front of her, and she turned to her husband with her eyebrow quirked. He put his arm behind his head and chuckled nervously.

"Did I mention that we'll need to buy furniture?"

* * *

Sunlight slants through the wooden shutters, splaying orange-yellow light onto the floor and casting sharp shadows. Everything looks the same as it always did – the simple furniture, the minimalistic paintings on the walls, trinkets from their travels across the world, the bookcases stuffed with scrolls on medicine and diplomacy.

Katara steps over the threshold.

She feels Sokka's warm presence follow right behind her. She holds on to the half-truth she told her children that morning: she is the only one who can do this job well. In her mind, she starts going through the list of objects and activities she plans to find and accomplish today. Clean the living room. Retrieve any medical resources that she can't do without. Clean the kitchen. Pack enough cooking utensils to assist her later. Throw out the food in the pantry. Move on to the bedrooms. Clean and retrieve clothes and anything of sentimental value.

The mental checklist keeps her eyes from watering.

"Let's start with the front room," she declares. Her voice shakes a little.

* * *

Something crashed, and Bumi wailed.

Katara rushed back into the front room and found her toddler sitting on the floor surrounded by chunks of yellow clay. She picked up her son and dusted the fragments off of him and stared sadly at the broken pieces on the floor.

Aang came out of his study down the hall. "Everything okay?" he asked.

Katara snuggled Bumi against her, and he started to calm down. "He's fine. I think he bumped into the table." Her sad blue eyes met her husband's gaze from across the room. "He broke the incense censer."

Aang walked across the room and held out his arms for the toddler. Bumi reached up happily and started tugging on the collar of Aang's robes. Aang leaned over and kissed the top of Katara's head.

"It's all right. I'll try to fix it. And even if I can't, it was just a censer."

Katara started picking up the pieces. She ran her thumb over the painted clay. "But . . . it was from the Southern Air Temple."

When she looked up, Aang stared at Bumi with rapt attention as the little boy patted his father's cheeks and laughed. She smiled softly.

* * *

Katara runs her fingers over the incense censer sitting on the end table. It is riddled with cracks, but the glue has lasted this long, sealing the pieces back together. She puts it gently in the box of items to donate to the Air Temple. The Air Acolytes will find a good home for it.

Sokka sits on some cushions, sorting through scrolls and books and packing them into boxes. He has several piles in front of him: for the Air Temple, for the public library in the city proper, and for Katara to take, he explains to her. She trusts his judgment and moves on to the kitchen and dining room. She pulls plates, glasses silverware, pots, and pans onto the dining table, then kneels on the green cushions and starts sorting and packing.

* * *

Kya set down her teacup with a smack. "I'm going traveling," she announced.

The family sat on the green cushions around the dining table, finishing up their evening meal, when Kya made her declaration. All eyes instantly fell on her.

"What?" Tenzin exclaimed. He looked from his sister to his parents with round eyes. Kya, for her part, simply stared her parents down, her face set stubbornly.

"Bumi left home to see the world," she argued. "I want to do the same."

"Bumi joined the United Forces," Katara amended. "That's different."

"No, it isn't!" Kya gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white. "Bumi's off helping people. And you and Dad help people all the time—as the Avatar and at the clinic. But I can't help anyone cooped up here on this island all the time!"

Katara opened her mouth to argue with her daughter again, a deep-seated instinct telling her to not allow such a dangerous request, but Aang raised his hand, and after a moment, Katara swallowed her anger and fear and sat back on her heels.

"Kya." Aang spoke quietly, measured. His daughter jerked her chin up as she faced him across the table.

"Have you thought this through?" he asked calmly. "How will you care for yourself? Earn money? Buy food and supplies?"

"Healing," she answered instantly. "I've learned every skill Mom taught me, and I can earn money or room and board by healing. By helping people."

Her daughter's passion to help people touched Katara, but nerves still fluttered in her chest. Her teenage daughter, leaving home, alone in the world?

Aang sighed heavily. "Your mother and I will consider it. We'll have another conversation about this later in the week."

Hope flared in Kya's blue eyes, and she nodded sharply.

* * *

After an hour or two, the kitchen cupboards are mostly bare, and they have the cooking utensils Katara selected to take with her in a marked box.

"I'll go sort some things in the study," Sokka says. "You take a break." She nods as he heads down the hall.

She slides open the sliding door to the courtyard. She needs some fresh air.

* * *

Katara often sat on the bench in the courtyard outside their home and watched her husband and son move through bending regimens. Tenzin bowed in front of his father and sifu, and they started their training.

They raised their arms, keeping their elbows close to their bodies, and circled each other. After a moment, the air currents swirled around them as they mirrored each other's motions. Aang advanced, and Tenzin spun away. Tenzin advanced, and Aang spun away. Sinuous, swift, and unbelievably similar. The only difference was the blue stripe running down her husband's back. But Tenzin would earn his tattoos soon enough.

She watched them until they finished and bowed, and then she watched after Aang went back inside and her son continued to practice, bending the wind to his will, the leaves spiraling upwards into the evening.

* * *

Sokka places his hand on her shoulder as they start down the hall. Katara pauses in front of the bedroom door. Sokka squeezes her shoulder in encouragement.

Katara swings open the bedroom door and braces herself.

The Air Acolytes had cleaned the room since she had last been here. Before—the sheets damp with sweat, the covers twisted around his legs, her clothes tossed carelessly into the corner as she maintained her constant vigil beside the bed. Now the bed is made with fresh white sheets, and clothes and towels no longer litter the floor. Now the room looks more like it always had—when he first laid her down on _their_ new bed; when they whispered softly to each other in the dark; when he spent long periods brushing her hair; when she perched on the bed and ran healing water over the knots in his muscles; when the children piled into bed with them during a thunderstorm; when she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, and he nuzzled against her; when he kissed her with such passion and tenderness she thought she might melt—

Katara trembles. She takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"Hey," Sokka murmurs, pulling her to him. "Hey, you don't have to do this. Just tell me the things you need to make the trip down south, and I'll come back with the Air Acolytes, and we'll pack up the rest of the house."

Katara swipes at her eyes and lets out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, right, like I'm going to let you do housework, Sokka."

He smiles at her and squeezes her hand. "All right, then."

They set to work, and that distracts her from the memories pressing at her from all sides. So many memories here, in the house that once was theirs. They claw at her, and she fights them off, but she is getting tired.

"Katara," her brother says. He pulls something from a drawer and hands it to her. She takes the piece of paper from him automatically.

In the photograph, she holds baby Tenzin in her arms, and Kya and Bumi smile softly. And Aang smiles at her, the pride and happiness beaming from his face. She greedily soaks up the planes of his face, the curve of his arrow, his smile, the softness around his eyes, the strength in his posture, the kindness in his hands.

She breaks.

* * *

Aang's hand ghosted over her cheek as they lay in their bed, quiet in the dark. She drew her fingers over his graying beard. Even after so many years, he still looked at her in a way that made her feel like she was fourteen again.

"I love you," he whispered. She smiled and brushed her lips against his.

"I love you too."

That night, laying in her bed in Sokka's apartment, Katara listens. In the other room, she hears her children talking quietly, but she can't make out their words. She sits up and pushes herself up. In the dark, she fumbles through one of the boxes of scrolls and paper. She finds the photograph and sits back down on the bed.

Katara draws her fingertips over his face as her throat closes with tears.

"Aang," she whispers. "I miss you."

* * *

Please read and review? Please don't hate me.


	5. Heartbeat

Originally this was going to be a fluffy pregnancy oneshot since the prompt was Heartbeat, but then this happened. Apparently I wanted to write all the heavy things?

* * *

Katara woke gasping for air. She shoved the blankets away from her face and sat up abruptly. The light of the full moon filtered through the window, casting silver shadows on the bedspread.

"Sweetie?" Aang murmured next to her, his voice heavy with sleep.

"S'okay," she whispered, still staring at the moon out the window. "Go back to sleep."

Katara heard him shift, heard his breathing normalize again, and she knew he drifted back into his dreams. She, meanwhile, curled her knees to her forehead, and tried to calm her erratic breathing and fluttering heart. She trembled and squeezed her eyes shut.

But when she closed her eyes, she only felt it more keenly: the sweet, seductive song of the water pumping through Aang's heart, the steady thrum of blood flying through his vessels, a drumbeat pulsing in her head.

Her hands tingled, and she flung the blankets away from her. Katara rushed from the bed to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. After fumbling for a moment, she lit the candle and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Tears stained her cheeks, and she swallowed thickly. She wanted to crawl out of her skin. She wanted to sleep and dream about happy things. She wanted to curl up in Aang's arms and let him take away her fears. But she couldn't; she didn't dare go near him, not when the power of the moon surged in her like this, indiscriminate, insistent, insidious.

Katara smoothed her hair and sucked in a deep breath. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled a small pool of water from the faucet and set it spinning in the palm of her hand. Her heart slowed somewhat, the power inside her partially appeased.

A quiet knock on the door interrupted her bending.

"Katara? Can I come in?"

She dropped the water into the sink and met her reflection's gaze in the mirror. Her heart rate sped back up as anxiety flooded her. Hesitant, she unlocked the door.

Aang peeked inside the bathroom. He took one look at her tearful expression and her trembling hands and pulled her into his arms. She tried to resist, but he enveloped her easily, and her hands landed on the front of his chest. His heart beat underneath her palm—so strong, so sweet, so close. A sob wrenched from her throat as she shook.

"It's okay," Aang whispered in her ear. "It's okay, it's okay."

Katara buried her face in his collarbone and shook her head. "I'm out of control," she gasped hoarsely. Tears burned underneath her eyelids, and a headache pounded behind her eyes with the same rhythm as his heartbeat.

Aang kissed the top of her head and tugged her out of the bathroom.

"Aang—"

He leveled her protest with a soft smile. "Trust me," he murmured.

Katara's words died on her lips. Trusting him was the one thing she would always do unwaveringly, implicitly, easily.

She followed him. They glided through the moonlit room, cutting in and out of the silver light. He pulled her flush against him, wrapped his arm securely around her waist, and clasped her other hand in his. He started swaying, and she followed his lead.

They danced quietly. Katara found her breathing slowing to match their movements. She focused on the subtle shifts of his weight, the gentle pressure of his hand on the small of her back, the warmth of his fingers intertwined with hers. Aang placed his temple against hers and hummed softly. The vibrations thrilled through her, and Katara shivered, closing her eyes. The headache dulled. The tingling faded. She only felt him, his warmth and love floating around her as deep and beautiful as the ocean.

She hummed along with him and rolled her hips as they swayed. Aang twirled her in a circle and flashed a smile as she curled back into him, her back to his front. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he nuzzled her neck. They twirled again so that they faced each other, two pairs of bright eyes trained solely on the other's face. Katara flung her arms around his neck and held them there for several beats.

"Thank you," she whispered into his skin.

They danced until the moonlight weakened, and she felt like she could sleep. Exhausted, she snuggled into the safety of his arms and fell asleep to the sound of his soothing and steady heartbeat.

* * *

Thanks for reading this far, and I hope you've enjoyed this series. If real life calms down, I may finish the last two prompts, and I will update them here and on Tumblr. If you have any feedback, I would appreciate a review!


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